


Where I Go

by smallerontheoutside (theinvisiblequestion)



Series: #oneyearofthe100 Fic Week [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Year of the 100, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisiblequestion/pseuds/smallerontheoutside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after Clarke leaves, Bellamy goes to Polis to find her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly titled "Unfair"
> 
> New title pulled from Ingrid Michaelson's "Home" which is so Bellarke I may die. ( _I know everything about this place. It wears your face._ )

Bellamy’s face is full of pain and questions. “Where will you go?” _Where can I find you?_

Clarke resists the urge to grip his arm or hug him again. “I don’t know.” _Don’t come after me._

The gate hangs open, waiting. Clarke’s mother is fighting to get up off the stretcher, but Marcus and Jackson talk her down. She’s in good hands—better than Clarke’s bloodstained ones, anyway. They’re all in good hands.

She presses her lips to Bellamy’s cheek, because it would be so unfair to press them to his lips.

“May we meet again.” _I’ll come back when I’m ready._

He nods, and as she walks away she hears him say, “May we meet again.” _Please do._

She goes back toward the mountain first. Those who weren’t killed on level five have disappeared into the maze of the bunker or the wide open world. She has never been pious, but when she stands on the rise and looks at the mountain, it feels like a prayer. Whether the prayer is for the dead or for herself, she doesn’t know.

She has no idea where Polis is, but Lexa’s people won’t have left yet, and Tondc isn’t far. She stops at the dropship for the night; the sun is setting rapidly and it’s going to be cold soon. She’s about to curl up on the second level and go to sleep when she hears footfalls on the level below. She raises her pistol and grips her knife with her free hand, but the head that pokes up through the floor is just Bellamy. “Bellamy—“

“I’m not asking you to come back,” he says immediately. “I just thought you might want to have a victory drink before you go.” He holds up a canteen and a couple of cups.

Clarke turns away from him and digs around in a crate for a lantern. “There’s nothing to celebrate.”

“I didn’t say anything about celebrating.” His voice is rough.

She takes the cup he offers her.

They drink in silence for a while, and then they get drunk enough to talk, and by the time the canteen is empty, they’re sitting against the wall of the dropship next to each other, leaning shoulder to shoulder.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” he says, shifting to face her.

Clarke runs her fingers through his hair and turns toward him. “Shh.”

“Clarke, _please_.”

Clarke sighs. The moonshine is enough to make her feel woozy, but she’s still got her wits about her. Most of them. “I have to do this,” she says. “The rules are different here, Bellamy. Someone’s got to learn them.”

“You don’t have to do it alone.” He sounds broken when he says it, so she pets his hair and kisses him on the mouth.

“Yes, I do. You’re the reason any of us are still alive. I need you to keep doing that.”

He turns toward her, pulling her closer. “Just don’t forget where home is, princess,” he begs.

She puts a hand over his heart and presses down until she can feel it thump against her hand. “I won’t.”

And then whatever has been hanging between them shatters, or maybe the last of the moonshine kicks in all the way, and their sappy heartfelt moment bares a fearsome set of teeth and transforms into hunger, and if she’s going to hell anyway she’s got nothing to lose.

At some point, someone cries and someone kisses away tears. Someone hits the metal floor too hard and someone laughs and kisses it better. They take turns whispering and whimpering and groaning names and curses. Someone murmurs words they would both regret if the moonshine wasn’t going to erase all but the vaguest details of the night.

They part ways in the morning with a kiss that lingers even after it’s over.

She remembers thinking how unfair it would have been to kiss Bellamy properly, and wonders who it would have been unfair to.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of #oneyearofthe100 Fic Week: Episode Coda
> 
> Coda for 2x16 "Blood Must Have Blood Part 2"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, this whole fic week is a coda for 2x16 but WHATEVER.

Bellamy knows he can’t go after Clarke, so he doesn’t, not immediately. Instead, he sees Camp Jaha through the winter and into the spring. He and Kane trade with Indra’s people for some seeds (they found some in the wreckage of another station, but not enough), and Camp Jaha builds itself a garden. After the planting’s done and things go back to a mundane, quiet routine, Bellamy gets restless. He hasn’t heard anything about Clarke, and neither have the _Trigedakru_. Even Octavia and Lincoln, who frequently scout or hunt days away from the camp, have seen no sign of Clarke.

It’s the middle of the night when Bellamy finally decides he’s had it. He’s been sitting outside his tent with a generous helping of Monty’s moonshine and staring up at his old home, the one where he didn’t know Clarke and wasn’t constantly wondering where she was or whether she had enough food or if she’d been eaten by a mutant tiger.

He packs a bag before dawn the next morning, tells Kane he’s going “out” and walks out the gate without a glance behind him. Well, maybe one or two glances. Just to make sure the guards close the gate all the way.

He’ll never figure out how they know, but before he’s walked two hours, Octavia and Lincoln appear beside him. “You won’t find her without Lincoln,” Octavia says before Bellamy can protest.

“You told me—”

“I know what I said,” Octavia snaps. “But she obviously means something to you; you’ve been moon-eyed ever since she left.”

“O...”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “She went to Polis, the capitol.”

“I know.”

“You’re walking in literally the exact opposite direction of Polis.”

Bellamy shrugs and hangs a sharp left, but it’s not long before he figures out that he’s actually following Lincoln. They don’t talk much after that, partly because there’s little to say, but mostly because they’re leaving the part of the woods that is generally safe.

It’s days and days before they reach Polis, but it’s unlike anything Bellamy has ever seen, at least in real life. He’s seen pictures and vids of cities, but he never thought anything remotely like a city could have survived the apocalypse.

It takes three days to find Clarke after they find Polis, because, as it happens, she’s avoiding them—well, avoiding Bellamy—and at first he thinks it’s because she went to Lexa.

It’s not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia eavesdrops on her brother and Clarke.
> 
> For #oneyearofthe100 Fic Week, Day 4: Relationship Fluff/Angst

Octavia’s not trying to insert herself into the conversation, but she could cut this tension with a dull sword. “Clarke, you look pale.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Bellamy asks, and Octavia wants to gag at how fucking _stupid_ he looks, all worry lines and eyebrows.

“I’m fine,” she says, and it sounds tired. Octavia peers at her, at the way she stands and the way she moves. Despite having lived under a rock pretty much literally for sixteen years, she knows the difference in body language between uncomfortable and protective. That, and Octavia isn’t stupid; she knows exactly where Bellamy was the night Clarke left.

“Are you sure? Octavia’s right. You don’t look so good. Are you sick? Have you seen a healer?”

“Bellamy, I’m fine!” Clarke snaps. She huffs and looks at Octavia. “Can I have a minute with your brother?”

Octavia shrugs and walks outside, but it’s not like the canvas walls keep any noise in or out, so she can hear the entire conversation anyway.

“Clarke, what’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” Clarke says, and Octavia isn’t even a little bit surprised.

Bellamy’s silent, and Octavia can only imagine the look on his face. He’ll stare at her first, blinking as he tries to comprehend what she’s just said. Then he’ll either look like someone’s punched him in the gut (because he thinks she found someone else), or he’ll look like he’s been struck by lightning (because he remembers the night she left), or his eyes will bug out and he’ll work his jaw up and down like a fish (because he’s a stupid idiot). He obviously takes the first option, because his quiet “Oh” is all sad like he’s just had a cosmic, super depressing epiphany.

“‘Oh’?” Clarke asks.

“Well—I just—nothing.”

Clarke’s probably looking at him like he’s an idiot, or like she can’t believe he’s such an idiot. “It’s not _nothing_ , Bellamy. This is serious. The implants are supposed to last ten _years_ , not ten months. What if mine’s not the only one that failed? Our people are barely surviving as it is. I don’t know if we can afford more mouths to feed.”

Bellamy’s definitely pissed now, because Clarke’s been AWOL for months, and even though Bellamy’s tried to explain it to Octavia, it’s clear he doesn’t really get it; Octavia does, but she doesn’t particularly care for Clarke’s reasoning. “We _can_ , because while you were off gallivanting around the countryside, I was trading with Indra’s clan for surplus seeds to add to the ones we found in the wreckage of Farm Station.”

“They still need to know,” Clarke insists. “If mine failed, others might have failed, and our people need to know so they can act accordingly.”

Bellamy snorts, and Octavia knows he’s rolling his eyes and then staring at the floor while he thinks of the best way to word his response. “Act accordingly? You mean like you acted accordingly?”

“I was drunk, Bellamy, and _you_ didn’t stop me!”

It’s pretty obvious that Bellamy has had it all twisted up to now, because he is dead silent for the small eternity of three seconds. “I—what do you mean, _I_ didn’t stop you?”

If there was booze, then Octavia knows Bellamy outdrank Clarke, and the chances of him accurately remembering what happened are pretty close to zero. Clarke sounds hurt when she makes a reply too quiet for Octavia to hear from this far away.

“No, I know we had a victory drink, but I passed out after—” There’s a pause. “ _Shit_. Fuck! I thought that was a dream.”

Octavia gets up and walks away; she doesn’t need to hear the rest of the conversation, because it’s just going to be Clarke and Bellamy dancing around and pissing each other off. She finds Lincoln under a tree, sketching a view of Polis. She sits next to him, and when he’s finished his sketch, he tucks the book and the pencil away. “You hungry?”

“Only if you let me come with,” Octavia says.

“Octavia...”

Octavia glares at him, and he sighs. He still offers her his hand when he gets up, even though she is perfectly capable of getting up, and she has to practically fight him just so she can make the killshot on a damn _rabbit_.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke is standing in front of him, telling him she's pregnant, but he can't quite believe it. Maybe it's because he's in shock, or maybe it's because her layered shirts hide the swell of her belly.

"What did the commander say?"

Clarke frowns in a way that makes Bellamy regret the question immediately. "I came to Polis to learn, Bellamy. I told you that. I didn't forgive Lexa for that shit she pulled. She might be _heda_ , but that doesn't mean I forgive her for putting my people in danger." Clarke's eyes are blue fire, and Bellamy takes a step back before he gets burnt. "She doesn't get a say in how I handle my life, not after she betrayed my people."

Bellamy hears  _not after she betrayed me_ echo in the pause.

Clarke's fists clench, and just when he thinks she's going to go on a tirade, she shakes her head and her shoulders slouch.  "I just want to go home," she says quietly.

Bellamy steps toward Clarke, and she walks right into his arms. She squeezes him with more force than he's used to, and he wants to hold her tight and never let go. "So when you say 'pregnant'..." Bellamy smirks when she looks up at him.

Clarke lifts her shirt and sure enough, there's an unmistakable swell between her hips. Bellamy puts a hand on her bare skin, and though he can't feel anything special, he's hit with the reality of it anyway. He stares at Clarke for a long moment and then he kisses her, because he can't figure out how to say what he wants to say.

She's more enthusiastic about kissing him than he expected, and when he eventually backs away to rest his forehead on hers, she tries to jump right back into it. "Clarke," he says firmly.

Clarke rolls her eyes. "This is your doing. You get to deal with the consequences." She cards her fingers through his hair, and they really need to talk about—about something, except that Clarke must remember more about that last night than she let on because he is really having trouble—

"Clarke," he repeats, and it comes out embarrassingly high pitched. "We have to talk."

She looks him in the eye. "Later," she promises.

Bellamy thinks it's unfair of her to pull the "this is your fault" card so early in the game, but when they discuss the future tangled up together, his hand on her belly, he'll suffer all manner of injustice if it means having her around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's the end of this one. They live happily ever after. The end.
> 
> I'm going to write a more complete canon-divergent babyfic later and it's going to be about eighty thousand times more exciting than this one.


End file.
